


What Could've Been

by BlueTwilight



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU of an AU, Angst, Disabled Character, Disabled Reader, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Player-Insert, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has undefined gender, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6511291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTwilight/pseuds/BlueTwilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various NSFW short stories set in the same universe as my series of Undertale fanfics, called "Still Counting". None of these are canon, but they all work within the context of the canon story, so expect this fic to contain major spoilers for "Tally Up Your Sins" and "Count Your Blessings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Less Than Perfect Gentleman (M)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. Oooooh boy. I've done it now XD
> 
> WELP it's exactly as the summary says... I was struck with the urge to write a smutty version of TUYS, so that's just what this is. I actually considered making TUYS explicit at first, but I've never written smut before so I figured that'd be a bad idea. Plus it doesn't really contribute to the plot at all, so I didn't feel it was necessary.
> 
> Since the reader has no defined gender, I've decided to write each chapter twice; once with AMAB reader and once with AFAB reader. I decided against trying to keep it ambiguous because I don't feel I'm a good enough smut writer to be able to do that. The reader character will continue to use they/them/theirs pronouns, regardless. Chapter titles that are followed by an (M) depict a reader with a penis, chapters with an (F) have a reader with a vagina.
> 
> I'll reiterate again that none of this is canon to the "Still Counting" series; it's just something I'm doing for a laugh, basically XD Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter takes place after TUYS chapter 10, "Bloom"

You managed to choke down the butterscotch-cinnamon pie without arousing suspicion, though every bite sent a shiver of guilt down your spine. Luckily, you hadn’t been forced to talk much during dessert, since Sans spent the whole time chattering benignly about the first time he’d tried baking a pie with Papyrus. As it turned out, Sans was pretty talkative once he got going on a story, though he spoke a bit slowly and had to pause every time he took a bite of food. You just had to sit back and laugh when appropriate; easy.

By the time both of you were finished with your food and the table was cleared, it was pretty late. Sans led you back through the same shortcut you’d come in from. You shivered in the cold, night air as you limped through the snow-covered path that led to his house. Seeing this, Sans pulled his own jacket off and slung it over your shoulders wordlessly. It was a sweet gesture, and your resulting blush was even more effective than the coat at warming you up.

It wasn’t long before you were back in the house, standing at the foot of the stairs. With a sigh, you balanced on your one good leg and passed the crutches over to Sans, getting ready to drag yourself upstairs using the arduous routine you and the brothers had developed since your arrival at their two-story house. However, Sans surprised you when he dropped the crutches, letting them clatter to the ground loudly.

“I have a better idea.” You were given no warning before you were suddenly swept off your feet and into a pair of boney arms. The motion caused his jacket to fall off of you and land on the floor. You let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise, which made Sans chuckle. You felt the rumbling cadence of his laugh through his ribs.

“Jeeze, you’re strong…” You muttered, instinctively wrapping your arms around Sans’ neck as he carried you bridal-style up the stairs. He acknowledged you with a wink and a suggestive waggle of his brows, which had you snorting with suppressed laughter. Suppressed, because you were passing by Papyrus’ room, where you assumed he was fast asleep by now.

“When I first found you, this was how I carried you back to the house.” He admitted as he nudged the door to his room open with his foot. “You were, uh... pretty out of it, so I guess you don’t remember.” You shook your head in the negative. You wondered what had been going through his mind when he found you lying there, half dead in the cold. Did he consider turning you in? Or just leaving you there? The thought of him standing over you, with complete control over your life, made your breath catch and your face flush.

… Huh. That was a little bit weird, especially for you. You usually hated losing control, but, since it was Sans, it felt somehow more appealing.

As Sans lowered you into bed, with those thoughts in mind, you reached up and grabbed the collar of his button-down shirt with both hands. You paused, telegraphing your movements so he’d have time to pull away if he wished. But, when he didn’t, you tugged him down and pressed your lips against his teeth.

The kiss was… well, it was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t know what you’d expected, but kissing was a little one-sided what with one of you being a skeleton. Still, Sans seemed to enjoy you smooshing your lips into his teeth, since he made a low growling sound in the back of his throat that sent a jolt through your body. As you kissed him, you took one hand and ran it over his ribs, thoroughly enjoying the shiver it elicited from him.

He pulled back, but you kept his shirt clenched in your fist. He had his hands braced on either side of your head as he loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom.

“You really wanna go there, kid? ‘Cause we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He sounded serious, so you took it seriously. You thought about it and, yeah, you did kind of wanna go there. You hadn’t expected the night to turn out this way, and maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to if things had gone differently. But, as it was… you hadn’t been this close to someone since your ex, and you craved it. The fact that you knew and liked Sans was a bonus.

And, yeah, okay... you were dying to know how Sans planned on doing this when he was a literal skeleton.

“I want to, as long as you do.” You mumbled, and he scoffed, as if that was a dumb question. He bent down and pressed his teeth against your lips, and you gladly went back to kissing him. You tried to use a little more skill this time, deliberately dragging your tongue in the grooves between his teeth and even scraping your own incisors against his. You were caught off guard, however, when something wet and warm touched your tongue.

Your eyes snapped open, though you couldn’t remember ever closing them. You brought your hands up to Sans’ skull and gently pulled him away from you to get a good look. Sure enough, there was a long, cobalt tongue hanging out of his mouth, casting a soft, blue glow over the room. Well, you hadn’t been expecting _that_ , but it wasn’t necessarily a turn-off, either. You chalked it up to magic, and were at least glad that he could now reciprocate somewhat.

You hadn’t noticed it before, but Sans already looked wrecked. He was panting, his tongue lolling out obscenely from between his teeth. His eyes were half-lidded and a single bead of sweat clung to his temple. You had to remind yourself that he’d never dated anyone before, so he probably didn’t do this often, if at all. That gave you a heady sense of power, which went straight to your nether regions.

“Why’d you… oh.” Sans only just seemed to realize that he had a tongue now, and his cheeks flushed bright blue. “I-I can make it go away, if y-you don’t like it-” You responded by attacking his face again, sucking his tongue into your mouth recklessly. It was a lot bigger than you’d anticipated, but you persevered and managed not to choke.

Sans moaned brokenly, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head. He repositioned himself by climbing onto the bed with you, straddling your thighs while being careful to avoid jostling your injured leg. He used his tongue to explore you, and you whimpered as he brushed over the roof of your mouth.

“God damn…” He broke the sloppy kiss to moan, leaning his forehead against yours. Your breathing was erratic now, too, and every part of your body felt hot and overly sensitive. You brought shaky hands up to loosen Sans’ tie and work at the buttons on his shirt, but were interrupted by the sensation of his tongue lavishing the junction between your neck and your shoulder. Your fingers stuttered, and you had to settle for opening just the top half of the buttons. Impatiently, you brought your hands up to his chest, smoothing your palms over the entirety of his ribcage in a sweeping motion. 

Sans cried out, which startled you a little. You hadn’t expected him to be quite that sensitive there, but he growled at you to “Keep going,” so you eagerly obliged. You traced each rib with your thumbs, starting near his clavicle and moving down one by one. The treatment sent his bones rattling, causing him to completely forget about what he’d been doing to your neck. You didn’t mind, though; you were plenty turned on just by watching him come undone under your hands.

By the time you got down to the sixth or seventh set of ribs, he seemed to remember himself. He dragged a hand down your side until he reached your thigh, where he grabbed a fistfull of the fabric there and pulled up. You’d forgotten about the fact that you were wearing that stupid dress, and blushed bright red when Sans pulled it all the way up to your hips. He was unbothered by your sudden bashfulness, though, and simply muttered something unintelligible before burying his face in your neck again. This time, when he pressed his tongue against your skin, he used his thumb to rub little circles into your inner thigh at the same time.

“Hnn…” You whined, your back arching and hands stilling on his chest. You felt yourself growing fully erect, your dick straining against your briefs uncomfortably. You’d been half-hard for a while, but only just noticed it now that it was becoming a more pressing issue.

“Sans…” You moaned lustfully as you reached down, grabbing his wrist. In a bold move, you led his hand up to your crotch, where your erection throbbed against your underwear. He swore under his breath, which only sent another jolt of longing through your body.

Slowly, teasingly, he began to rub you through your clothes. Since he obviously seemed to know what to do, you let go of his wrist in favor of grabbing onto his shirt again. You panted and fought not to thrust into his hand, though every now and then your hips would give an involuntary jerk.

“You like that?” Sans asked, his voice low and raspy. You thought it was pretty obvious from the precum soaking through your briefs that yes, you did like it, but you moaned out the affirmative for him anyway. Only then did Sans reach up and drag down the elastic of your underwear, finally freeing your cock. He lowered his head to get a good glance at it before looking back up, staring you in the eyes as he wrapped his fingers around your length.

You threw your head back onto the pillow helplessly as Sans began to jerk you off agonizingly slowly. You would’ve thought it’d be weird to get a handjob from a skeleton, but at that moment you didn’t give a single fuck that he didn’t have skin. He seemed to object to you breaking eye contact, though, since his hand squeezed you threateningly. 

“Look at me.” He hissed, and you immediately obeyed. You scrambled up onto your elbows, your breath catching in your throat. Only then did he pick up the pace, his hand sliding back and forth over you in earnest. But, oddly enough, that didn’t feel nearly as intimate as when he stared into your eyes. For a brief moment, you felt as though he could see into your soul, and it made your stomach churn.

Sans frowned, as though he had felt it, too. He broke the moment by leaning in for another kiss, but the atmosphere still felt a bit odd. Had it happened earlier, it might’ve ruined the mood, but, as it was, you were too far gone for it to matter. Your breath came in embarrassingly high-pitched gasps as you were brought closer to the edge. You moaned a guttural noise into Sans’ mouth as you came, coating Sans’ hand with your cum. He pressed his forehead to yours as he stroked you to completion, your breath slowing but your heart still racing from the aftermath.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, just trying to catch up to what had happened. As soon as your mental processes started coming back online again, you gasped.

“Oh! Sans, I’m sorry, you haven’t-”

“S’okay, don’t worry about it.” Sans grunted, but you still felt incredibly guilty. 

“No, really, I want to…” You trailed off, bringing your hand up to brush the protrusion of his hip. He’d taken care of you, it was only fair that you returned the favor. But, to your disappointment, Sans shied away. 

“Thanks, but, uh… I don’t.” He straightened up, still kneeling on top of you. He brought his hand up and examined your juices sticking to it, looking around as though wondering if it was acceptable to just wipe it on the sheets. 

“Um, no.” You interrupted his thoughts abruptly. He looked at you, confused. “I have to sleep here… please don’t do anything gross.” Sans gave you a crooked grin, as though he was thinking about doing it anyway, but ultimately obliged you. 

“Heh, if you say so.” He climbed off of the bed, again being mindful of your bum leg. “I’ll be back.” He promised you before disappearing through a shortcut, presumably to the bathroom to clean off his hand.

As soon as he was gone, you huffed and flopped back onto the bed. You tucked yourself back into your underwear and smoothed down your dress, too tired and lazy to change into pajamas now. You wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but you felt a little hurt that he didn’t want you to make him feel good, too. Was it because of that weird moment, just before you’d climaxed? You didn’t honestly know what the hell that was all about, but you felt, for some reason, that it was your fault. 

You laid spread-eagle on the bed, waiting for Sans to come back. You started to worry that he wouldn’t, until you saw his dark figure appear in the middle of the room.

“Sorry.” He muttered as he approached you, though you weren’t sure what for. He seemed to have changed out of his date clothes and into a t-shirt and sweats - the usual fare. You scootched over and allowed him to crawl into bed next to you. You rolled over onto your side and presented your back to him; an invitation. You were quietly pleased when he took it, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling your hair with his face. You hummed happily and tried to set aside the nagging sense of unease in the back of your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me fandom, for I have sinned. I honestly don't know if this was any good or not XD
> 
> Go to chapter 2 to read the (F) version of this chapter (if it's not up already, it will be soon)


	2. A Less Than Perfect Gentleman (F)

You managed to choke down the butterscotch-cinnamon pie without arousing suspicion, though every bite sent a shiver of guilt down your spine. Luckily, you hadn’t been forced to talk much during dessert, since Sans spent the whole time chattering benignly about the first time he’d tried baking a pie with Papyrus. As it turned out, Sans was pretty talkative once he got going on a story, though he spoke a bit slowly and had to pause every time he took a bite of food. You just had to sit back and laugh when appropriate; easy.

By the time both of you were finished with your food and the table was cleared, it was pretty late. Sans led you back through the same shortcut you’d come in from. You shivered in the cold, night air as you limped through the snow-covered path that led to his house. Seeing this, Sans pulled his own jacket off and slung it over your shoulders wordlessly. It was a sweet gesture, and your resulting blush was even more effective than the coat at warming you up.

It wasn’t long before you were back in the house, standing at the foot of the stairs. With a sigh, you balanced on your one good leg and passed the crutches over to Sans, getting ready to drag yourself upstairs using the arduous routine you and the brothers had developed since your arrival at their two-story house. However, Sans surprised you when he dropped the crutches, letting them clatter to the ground loudly.

“I have a better idea.” You were given no warning before you were suddenly swept off your feet and into a pair of boney arms. The motion caused his jacket to fall off of you and land on the floor. You let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise, which made Sans chuckle. You felt the rumbling cadence of his laugh through his ribs.

“Jeeze, you’re strong…” You muttered, instinctively wrapping your arms around Sans’ neck as he carried you bridal-style up the stairs. He acknowledged you with a wink and a suggestive waggle of his brows, which had you snorting with suppressed laughter. Suppressed, because you were passing by Papyrus’ room, where you assumed he was fast asleep by now.

“When I first found you, this was how I carried you back to the house.” He admitted as he nudged the door to his room open with his foot. “You were, uh... pretty out of it, so I guess you don’t remember.” You shook your head in the negative. You wondered what had been going through his mind when he found you lying there, half dead in the cold. Did he consider turning you in? Or just leaving you there? The thought of him standing over you, with complete control over your life, made your breath catch and your face flush.

… Huh. That was a little bit weird, especially for you. You usually hated losing control, but, since it was Sans, it felt somehow more appealing.

As Sans lowered you into bed, with those thoughts in mind, you reached up and grabbed the collar of his button-down shirt with both hands. You paused, telegraphing your movements so he’d have time to pull away if he wished. But, when he didn’t, you tugged him down and pressed your lips against his teeth.

The kiss was… well, it was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t know what you’d expected, but kissing was a little one-sided what with one of you being a skeleton. Still, Sans seemed to enjoy you smooshing your lips into his teeth, since he made a low growling sound in the back of his throat that sent a jolt through your body. As you kissed him, you took one hand and ran it over his ribs, thoroughly enjoying the shiver it elicited from him.

He pulled back, but you kept his shirt clenched in your fist. He had his hands braced on either side of your head as he loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom.

“You really wanna go there, kid? ‘Cause we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He sounded serious, so you took it seriously. You thought about it and, yeah, you did kind of wanna go there. You hadn’t expected the night to turn out this way, and maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to if things had gone differently. But, as it was… you hadn’t been this close to someone since your ex, and you craved it. The fact that you knew and liked Sans was a bonus.

And, yeah, okay... you were dying to know how Sans planned on doing this when he was a literal skeleton.

“I want to, as long as you do.” You mumbled, and he scoffed, as if that was a dumb question. He bent down and pressed his teeth against your lips, and you gladly went back to kissing him. You tried to use a little more skill this time, deliberately dragging your tongue in the grooves between his teeth and even scraping your own incisors against his. You were caught off guard, however, when something wet and warm touched your tongue.

Your eyes snapped open, though you couldn’t remember ever closing them. You brought your hands up to Sans’ skull and gently pulled him away from you to get a good look. Sure enough, there was a long, cobalt tongue hanging out of his mouth, casting a soft, blue glow over the room. Well, you hadn’t been expecting _that_ , but it wasn’t necessarily a turn-off, either. You chalked it up to magic, and were at least glad that he could now reciprocate somewhat.

You hadn’t noticed it before, but Sans already looked wrecked. He was panting, his tongue lolling out obscenely from between his teeth. His eyes were half-lidded and a single bead of sweat clung to his temple. You had to remind yourself that he’d never dated anyone before, so he probably didn’t do this often, if at all. That gave you a heady sense of power, which went straight to your nether regions.

“Why’d you… oh.” Sans only just seemed to realize that he had a tongue now, and his cheeks flushed bright blue. “I-I can make it go away, if y-you don’t like it-” You responded by attacking his face again, sucking his tongue into your mouth recklessly. It was a lot bigger than you’d anticipated, but you persevered and managed not to choke.

Sans moaned brokenly, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head. He repositioned himself by climbing onto the bed with you, straddling your thighs while being careful to avoid jostling your injured leg. He used his tongue to explore you, and you whimpered as he brushed over the roof of your mouth.

“God damn…” He broke the sloppy kiss to moan, leaning his forehead against yours. Your breathing was erratic now, too, and every part of your body felt hot and overly sensitive. You brought shaky hands up to loosen Sans’ tie and work at the buttons on his shirt, but were interrupted by the sensation of his tongue lavishing the junction between your neck and your shoulder. Your fingers stuttered, and you had to settle for opening just the top half of the buttons. Impatiently, you brought your hands up to his chest, smoothing your palms over the entirety of his ribcage in a sweeping motion. 

Sans cried out, which startled you a little. You hadn’t expected him to be quite that sensitive there, but he growled at you to “Keep going,” so you eagerly obliged. You traced each rib with your thumbs, starting near his clavicle and moving down one by one. The treatment sent his bones rattling, causing him to completely forget about what he’d been doing to your neck. You didn’t mind, though; you were plenty turned on just by watching him come undone under your hands.

By the time you got down to the sixth or seventh set of ribs, he seemed to remember himself. He dragged a hand down your side until he reached your thigh, where he grabbed a fistfull of the fabric there and pulled up. You’d forgotten about the fact that you were wearing that stupid dress, and blushed bright red when Sans pulled it all the way up to your hips. He was unbothered by your sudden bashfulness, though, and simply muttered something unintelligible before burying his face in your neck again. This time, when he pressed his tongue against your skin, he used his thumb to rub little circles into your inner thigh at the same time.

“Hnn…” You whined, your back arching and hands stilling on his chest. You felt yourself growing wet, and it soaked through your panties uncomfortably. You’d been hot and bothered for a while, but only just noticed it now that it was becoming a more pressing issue.

“Sans…” You moaned lustfully as you reached down, grabbing his wrist. In a bold move, you led his hand up to your crotch, letting him feel you through your underwear. He swore under his breath, which only sent another jolt of longing through your body.

Slowly, teasingly, he began to rub you through your clothes. Since he obviously seemed to know what to do, you let go of his wrist in favor of grabbing onto his shirt again. You panted and fought not to thrust into his hand, though every now and then your hips would give an involuntary jerk.

“You like that?” Sans asked, his voice low and raspy. You thought it was pretty obvious from how wet you were that yes, you did like it, but you moaned out the affirmative for him anyway. Only then did Sans reach up and slip his hand beneath your underwear, finally making direct contact with your clit. He stared you in the eyes as he began to rub your most sensitive parts.

You threw your head back onto the pillow helplessly as Sans dragged his fingers over you agonizingly slowly. You would’ve thought it’d be weird to get finger-fucked by a skeleton, but at that moment you didn’t give a single shit that he didn’t have skin. He seemed to object to you breaking eye contact, though, since his hand pressed down on you threateningly. 

“Look at me.” He hissed, and you immediately obeyed. You scrambled up onto your elbows, your breath catching in your throat. Only then did he dip a finger inside of you, his hand sliding back and forth over you in earnest. But, oddly enough, that didn’t feel nearly as intimate as when he stared into your eyes. For a brief moment, you felt as though he could see into your soul, and it made your stomach churn.

Sans frowned, as though he had felt it, too. He broke the moment by leaning in for another kiss, but the atmosphere still felt a bit odd. Had it happened earlier, it might’ve ruined the mood, but, as it was, you were too far gone for it to matter. Your breath came in embarrassingly high-pitched gasps as you were brought closer to the edge. You moaned a guttural noise into Sans’ mouth as you came, your inner walls clenching around his finger. He pressed his forehead to yours as he stroked you to completion, your breath slowing but your heart still racing from the aftermath.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, just trying to catch up to what had happened. As soon as your mental processes started coming back online again, you gasped.

“Oh! Sans, I’m sorry, you haven’t-”

“S’okay, don’t worry about it.” Sans grunted, but you still felt incredibly guilty. 

“No, really, I want to…” You trailed off, bringing your hand up to brush the protrusion of his hip. He’d taken care of you, it was only fair that you returned the favor. But, to your disappointment, Sans shied away. 

“Thanks, but, uh… I don’t.” He straightened up, still kneeling on top of you. He brought his hand up and examined your juices sticking to it, looking around as though wondering if it was acceptable to just wipe it on the sheets. 

“Um, no.” You interrupted his thoughts abruptly. He looked at you, confused. “I have to sleep here… please don’t do anything gross.” Sans gave you a crooked grin, as though he was thinking about doing it anyway, but ultimately obliged you. 

“Heh, if you say so.” He climbed off of the bed, again being mindful of your bum leg. “I’ll be back.” He promised you before disappearing through a shortcut, presumably to the bathroom to clean off his hand.

As soon as he was gone, you huffed and flopped back onto the bed. You straightened your underwear and smoothed down your dress, too tired and lazy to change into pajamas now. You wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but you felt a little hurt that he didn’t want you to make him feel good, too. Was it because of that weird moment, just before you’d climaxed? You didn’t honestly know what the hell that was all about, but you felt, for some reason, that it was your fault. 

You laid spread-eagle on the bed, waiting for Sans to come back. You started to worry that he wouldn’t, until you saw his dark figure appear in the middle of the room.

“Sorry.” He muttered as he approached you, though you weren’t sure what for. He seemed to have changed out of his date clothes and into a t-shirt and sweats - the usual fare. You scootched over and allowed him to crawl into bed next to you. You rolled over onto your side and presented your back to him; an invitation. You were quietly pleased when he took it, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling your hair with his face. You hummed happily and tried to set aside the nagging sense of unease in the back of your mind.


	3. This Definitely Won't End Well (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate version of TUYS chapter 17, "This Probably Won't End Well"
> 
> I may or may not write the female version of this later... it'll have to be changed quite a bit if I do. To be honest, I headcanon Reed as being AMAB, so I'm a little biased.
> 
> Dubcon warning for this chapter! As well as angry hate-sex.

It had been exactly seven minutes since Papyrus had gone back to bed, so Sans figured he was in the clear. Carefully, he cracked open the door to his brother’s bedroom, peering inside. To his relief, Papyrus was, indeed, asleep. Even though he didn’t sleep much, when he did lay down, Paps slept like the dead. He never half-assed anything, unlike Sans, who slept too damn much and was somehow still always tired. Papyrus’ deep sleeping habits were easily exploitable; usually in the form of a prank but, in this case, Sans made use of this time by booting up Papyrus’ computer, confident that his brother wouldn’t wake up and question him about it.

As the machine warmed up, Sans turned around and watched Papyrus sleep. The light from the monitor bathed his prone form in a blue glow. Papyrus’ face was wrinkled a little in sleep, making him look like he was scowling. Sans wondered if Paps could unconsciously sense his presence, and was disgusted by it. Despite the fact that Papyrus constantly scolded him for leaving his room dirty and sleeping on the job, he and Sans rarely actually fought with each other. Today, though… today had been a bad one.

Sans sighed and dragged a hand down his face wearily. Papyrus had been woken by your cries for help and had been frantic to save you. He was subsequently furious with Sans when he’d found out he’d been the one to lock you up in the first place. Sans’ explanation didn’t help any, either. No one appreciated being lied to, including Papyrus. You’d been right; Sans should’ve been honest with Papyrus about your situation from the beginning. And he really, really hated admitting that you’d been right about anything.

The computer played a soft, familiar tune when it was done booting up, pulling Sans out of his own thoughts. He clacked away on the keyboard, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to check that Papyrus was still asleep. Eventually, he reached a program that was buried deep in layers upon layers of folders with silly, punny names. It was, after all, Papyrus’ computer, so the best way for Sans to hide anything personal from his nosey brother was to bury it behind a wall of puns. This particular program was important enough to password-protect, too, so it took an extra step before Sans was finally able to open it.

Immediately, a live video feed filled up the entire screen, drenching the room in near-blackness again. Thanks to Alphys, Sans had multiple cameras strewn throughout Snowdin that he could monitor at will, plus a few in Waterfall and Hotland. Now, though, he was only interested in one; the camera he’d set up in the shed. Papyrus didn’t own a computer chair (it promoted laziness, apparently), so Sans knelt down and laid his head on his arms, eyes glued to the screen.

Earlier that night, he’d watched you diligently for hours, making sure you never hurt his brother or broke either of the two rules he’d laid down for you. It was a good thing you never did because, despite his big talk, he really didn’t have anywhere else he could’ve kept you captive. But, luckily, you’d been perfectly pleasant to Paps, quietly solving your cube-shaped puzzle over and over again as you listened to Papyrus ramble about all of the episodes of Mettaton’s shows you’d missed. Sans was glad you hadn’t been mean, but also maybe a little bit annoyed. This way, Papyrus still thought you were a perfect little angel, and Sans was still the bad guy. It was frustrating.

He’d had to stop watching you once Papyrus grew tired and announced to you that he was going back home to sleep, but it didn’t seem like you’d done much in that time. Foregoing the dog bed, you’d made a little nest for yourself out of the piles of blankets Papyrus had insisted on bringing you. You actually looked pretty comfortable, curled up with your back to the camera. Sans couldn’t see your face, but he figured you were already asleep what with the lack of movement, save for the gentle rising and falling of your chest.

Sans sighed a little as he watched, his own eyes drooping. Papyrus had made him feel a bit bad about trapping you in the shed, but after hearing your little shouting match and seeing how relaxed you looked now, he didn’t feel so guilty anymore. He’d been torn on the issue at first, but after tonight, he was certain that the person sleeping in his shed wasn’t really you. Your soullessness raised questions that might have been interesting to a philosopher but, as far as Sans was concerned, he’d never even met the real you. That black-and-white way of looking at it made the things you’d said to him more bearable, if only a little. As he watched you sleep, he wondered what you’d think of him when you did get your soul back… if you’d be sorry for all of the lying and deceiving you’d done.

Or maybe you wouldn’t be any different. After all, there were plenty of humans who did horrible things even with their souls firmly in their bodies. Maybe you were just a scummy person, with or without a soul. But then, Sans remembered something you’d said on the date (Just the thought of that night made him taste bile in the back of his throat. Those memories had been sweet for a while, but every moment he’d spent with you was soured for him now.). You’d talked about your ex, and how they’d left you for being emotionless. Maybe losing your soul was what had caused that change, and only your ex had picked up on it. Maybe.

Regardless, Sans was determined to remake that damned satellite and get your soul back in your body. He was more motivated to finish this than he’d been to do anything in a long time. Even his work on the time machine had been half-hearted at best; his will to finish it diminished by all of the resets constantly undoing his progress. He needed to make you whole again, just to prove that he’d been right when he saw something worth saving in you on that day he’d found you dying in the snow. He needed to prove that you could be a good person, once you weren’t missing such a crucial part of yourself, so that he could justify how much he cared about you.

… God, he was such a sucker, wasn’t he? He was just setting himself up for disappointment. But he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t have that kind of self-control.

Sans was pulled from his self-depreciating thoughts by a soft noise coming from the monitor. He focused on the live feed, straining to hear what was going on. It had sounded like a voice and, now that he was paying attention to the screen, he saw that you were shifting around under the covers. As he watched, you made the noise again. A spark of anger flared in his chest when he realized it was a lustful moan. 

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it infuriated him so much. Perhaps it was the fact that you were clearly _too_ comfortable in your cell, not suffering nearly enough for what you’d done to him. Or maybe the sound just hit a little too close to home; he remembered hearing that exact noise coming from you while you were lying in his bed. Maybe it was that he couldn’t even blame you for it, since you were obviously still asleep. You couldn’t control what you were dreaming about and, even as he watched with his fists clenched, your moans died off in a sleepy sigh as whatever horny dream you’d been having passed you by. 

He tried to rationalize with himself. Maybe he’d misread the situation. This camera wasn’t very good, and the audio quality left something to be desired. Maybe the moan hadn’t been lustful, but pained. Yeah… it was entirely possible you’d been having a nightmare. In that case, didn’t you deserve his pity?

But, still, he couldn’t let go of his gut reaction. It was like you were _mocking_ him…

 _There’s nothing you can do to me,_ He imagined you saying with a smirk, _You’ll never hurt me as much as I’ve hurt you-_

 _SLAM!_ Sans’ fist hit the table, and he flinched at the force of his own rage. His head whipped around to look over his shoulder, where Papyrus simply snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Sans let out the breath he’d been holding, then methodically began to shut the computer down. He was careful to be especially quiet after that, but, somehow, the fact that he couldn’t express his anger just made him even angrier.

As he waited for the computer to go through the slow process of turning itself off, Sans had a thought. No one was watching you right now. Papyrus was asleep. Sans could… he _could_ make you hurt. If he wanted to. 

He felt heat rising to his face, and didn’t really know what to make of that bodily reaction. The only person he’d ever wanted to hurt before was the kid… and was this really any different? This… this _fucker_ was the one who made all of that happen. Before he really even knew what was going on in his own head, Sans was already plotting how he was going to do this without Papyrus finding out. 

After all you’ve put him through, didn’t he deserve a little revenge?

\---

You awoke to the sound of the shed door opening.

Hyper-aware of your surroundings, you shot up immediately. In your confused state, you thought at first that it was morning, and Papyrus was back to treat you to a spaghetti breakfast. You wished that was the case. Instead of Papyrus giving you a chipper greeting, you were awoken to the shorter brother stalking into the still-dark shed, his blank eyes fixed on you and you alone.

The door closing behind him sent a shiver up your spine.

You watched him with well-deserved wariness as he finally turned away from you to walk over to the camera hanging up on the wall. Maybe he was just replacing the batteries? That hope was swiftly dashed when he reached up and pressed a button on its side. The red light that had indicated that the camera was recording suddenly disappeared.

Your heart pounded in your ears. Why would he turn off the camera? Swiftly, you threw the blankets off of yourself and scrambled backwards. Your hand inched toward the dogbowl; you had that shard of glass hidden underneath it, should you need to grab it to defend yourself. Meanwhile, Sans looked completely calm. He took a couple of steps toward you, then suddenly appeared on your side of the bars. A shortcut... of course.

“W-what’re you doing?” You tried to sound brave, but your voice wavered. This all seemed like a bad dream that you wouldn’t mind waking up from right about now. It was just so creepy, the way he was staring at you. The way the corners of his mouth quirked up as though he was satisfied by your poorly disguised fear. This certainly didn’t feel like the same person you’d gone on a date with last week.

He took another step toward you and, somehow, that was it. He’d crossed a line you hadn’t known you’d set. You lunged for the dogbowl and threw it at Sans, not bothering to look to see if you’d hit him with it before wrapping your hand around your real target. The piece of glass dug into your skin, but you barely noticed as you lurched to your feet and drove it toward your enemy.

Predictably, it didn’t work. He caught your wrist in his hand with a quickness you couldn’t dream of matching, and bent your hand back in a way it definitely was not supposed to bend. You yelled in pain and distantly heard the sound of the glass clattering to the floor.

“Really?” Sans scoffed, but quickly let go of your arm as though your skin had burned him. In the dim lighting, you thought you saw a strain in his creepy-ass smile. Before you could make sense of that, his left eye flashed blue while his hand shot out. You felt yourself fly backwards as though you’d been punched in the gut, and landed against the wall _hard_.

“Hnnn…” You whined, the only sound you were able to make as the breath was knocked right out of you. You instinctively tried to move, but felt that you were pinned to the wall. You couldn’t so much as lift an arm to defend yourself.

He stalked up to you, still holding you against the wall, but something was wrong. His expression was definitely off now, and there were beads of sweat forming on his brow. The hand pinning you trembled, just a little.

“You… you’re so… _infuriating_ ,” He said with a grimace. Still mentally recovering from the harsh blow to your back, you didn’t know how to respond. All you could think was that, at this point, he might just skip the middleman and kill you outright.

His hand shook more violently now. You watched it warily. Slowly, you felt the weight on your chest easing, while Sans’ hand lowered to his side. He began to laugh, brokenly, and you didn’t know what the hell to do. 

“God… I can’t. _I can’t do it,_ how fucking pathetic is that? Can’t even raise a hand to you, not when you’re just lookin’ at me like that… fuck...” 

You stood there silently. Confused, but not wanting to say anything that would set him off. If you had a soul right now, would you know what to do in this situation? Privately, you didn’t think so.

Sans continued to laugh, then trailed off and wiped his wet eyes. You didn’t dare move. He looked at you, and you couldn’t read his expression. Honestly, he was being more frightening now than when he’d bashed your head open on a rock. You fought not to flinch as he closed the distance between you…

...and pressed his teeth against your lips.

 _Well, fuck it, at this point._ You thought to yourself, with a bit of confusion and a lot of anger. Anger, because you didn’t know _what the hell he was thinking_ , and the situation had long since spiraled out of your control, and you couldn’t really do anything other than kiss him back if you wanted to keep him from going all homicidal on you again. Savagely, you grabbed him by the lower ribs and turned him around, forcing him into the wall he’d just slammed you against. 

That was, evidently, the wrong move. Sans quickly grabbed your elbows and pried your hands off of him, holding firm onto your arms as he forced you back against the wall again. Your heated kiss was broken, and he was already panting heavily. 

“Don’t… don’t touch me,” He ordered, then hesitated before taking you by the shoulders and flipping you around. You braced your hands against the wall, but didn’t resist as he pressed your face into it, “Don’t look at me, either.” 

You laughed. It was reckless, but you just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You’re one freaky son of a bitch, Sans,” You felt him shiver as you said his name. You could hardly believe that this was the same bashful, naive guy you’d made love to the first time. You think you know a person, and then... 

Well. Then they lock you in their shed and rape you, apparently.

Not that you were necessarily protesting. The rough treatment was already making you hard, and things were only just getting started. You noted, in a detached sort of way, that this kind of play never used to get you off. Maybe it was a soulless thing.

You felt his hand at the back of your head grasp your hair, though not tight enough to hurt. A warning, then. Feeling more bold now that the possibility of murder was getting less and less likely, you decided to push his buttons.

“Still think _I’m_ the one who seduced _you_? You’re delusional.” His grip on your hair tightened, and you felt him press his body flush against your back. Heat pooled in your groin, and you bit your lip to keep from groaning. 

“Hey, here’s a fun thought… if you do end up getting my soul back - and that’s a big _if_ \- what d’you think re-souled me will have to say about this particular memor-AHHH!” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Sans yanked your hair back, forcing your neck to arch painfully backwards. 

“Shut. Up.” He growled in your ear while his free hand traveled to the waistband of your pants. You huffed, your fingers curling against the wall.

“So… what? I can’t touch you… can’t look at you… can’t speak… you might as well go back to your room and jerk off to that live feed you’ve got set up,” You pointed backwards with your thumb, indicating to the powered-off camera you knew was still on the wall behind you, “Or has that lost its excitement already?” Suddenly, he slammed your head back forward, knocking your forehead into the wall hard enough that it’d certainly bruise. 

“I said to _shut up._ ” Feeling that you were starting to toe the line a little too closely, you reluctantly did as requested. You felt him trembling behind you, his breaths coming far too quick and heavy considering you both still had your clothes on. You were fairly certain he didn’t actually want to do this, just like he didn’t actually want to hurt you when he first came into the shed.

To egg him on, you pressed backwards into him and gave an exaggerated, needy whimper. You’d be damned if you were gonna let him leave you with blue balls after all this buildup. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to spur him on, as he quickly pushed down your pants and briefs all in one fell swoop. You felt him fumble with his own pants, and were a little startled when you felt a very human-like organ press up against your bare ass.

It was so very hard to resist a biting comment about the sudden appearance of a magical dick, but the self-enforced silence gave you a perverse thrill of your own. You choked back a weak moan as Sans’ skeletal hand wrapped around the base of your own cock. You tried to create friction by jerking your hips, but he was having none of it. The hand on the back of your head quickly came down to hold you by the waist, bracing you against his own pelvis to keep you from thrusting.

“Only when I say,” He growled, his voice muffled since his face was pressed against your shoulder, effectively keeping your upper body trapped against the wall. He was using his whole body to restrain you, not that it was particularly necessary. You weren’t struggling, though it did cross your mind that maybe he wanted you to.

You had just enough self-respect not to sink that low.

A whine escaped your lips as Sans began to thrust against you rhythmically. His dick slipped back and forth between your cheeks, dry enough that there was no way it wasn’t chafing him. Meanwhile, his hold on you was just past the edge of painful, and becoming even more so by the minute as your arousal increased. Sweat began to stain your shirt, and your knees were shaking enough that, even if Sans wasn’t keeping you pinned against the wall, you would’ve needed to lean on it for support. 

Behind you, you heard Sans huffing into your shoulder, noticeably muffling himself as though he didn’t want you to hear him. He curled into you more, his arm slipping up from your waist to hold you around your middle instead. It felt just a little bit more… intimate. You didn’t think you liked it.

You thrusted backwards into him, hoping to end this faster. It didn’t seem like he’d be letting you cum anytime soon, and it was just getting weird, anyway. His dick was sliding over your skin a bit easier now, be it from his own precum or whatever else his monster sex organs might exfoliate. Soon enough, Sans let out a broken gasp, and you felt the odd sensation of a warm fluid hitting your balls and the underside of your dick. 

By now, your own erection had waned, so you felt nothing but disappointment when Sans took his hand off of you. He was quick to skirt away from you, jumping back as if you’d turn around and attack him at any moment. You kept facing the wall while you listened to him pull up his pants. You counted to five in your head, then held your breath and turned around. 

As predicted, he was long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was bad and I should feel bad.
> 
> In other news, soulless!Reed is the mouthiest bottom on planet Earth, and Sans decided to be OOC for the sake of the very loose plot that was going on here. Way to take one for the team, buddy.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://bluewuf.tumblr.com/)


End file.
